


In Limbo

by MaskoftheRay



Series: The Things That I Do For You [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Clark Kent, Attempt at Humor, Bad Puns, Bruce Wayne Tries, Bruce Wayne is So Done, But it's mostly Clark comforting Bruce, But like... it's not THAT serious, Clark Kent is a Brat, Clark Kent loses an arm, Crack, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Crack, Gratuitous quoting of Dante, Humor, Hurt Clark Kent, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Humor, Light Angst, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Injuries, No editing- we die like womne, One (1) MythBusters reference, Protective Bruce Wayne, Short & Sweet, Superman is an Alien, What-If, Worried Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskoftheRay/pseuds/MaskoftheRay
Summary: Some lizards can shed their tails when threatened by a predator. Until now, Brucehad no credible reasonto believe that Clark could do the same.
Relationships: Batman/Superman, Bruce Thomas Wayne & The Limbs of Clark Joseph Kent, Bruce Wayne & Having an Alien Boyfriend, Clark Joseph Kent & His Limbs, Clark Kent & Being an Alien, Clark Kent & Martha Kent, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Series: The Things That I Do For You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693975
Comments: 21
Kudos: 304





	In Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> “The heavens, that their beauty not be lessened,   
>  have cast them out, nor will deep Hell receive them-   
>  even the wicked cannot glory in them.”   
>  — “Inferno,” _The Divine Comedy_ , Dante Alighieri

The day begins very normally, and continues to be normal until Clark arrives, and calls his name. Sighing, Bruce looks up from his microscope, and turns his chair around. He blinks. He blinks again. _Surely I’m not seeing this clearly…_ Superman currently looks— alarmingly— lopsided. Bruce absently sets down his tablet and stylus and stands. Silently, he strides over to where Clark is leaning against the cave’s wall a few feet away.

“Bruce? You okay?” Clark asks.

Bruce’s mouth purses tensely as he stares some more at the- the _scene_ before him. Then, the sound of suppressed snickering reaches Batman’s ears. _No. He’s **not**_ — Clark _is_ laughing. He glares at Superman for a moment, only to see the other man break into a grin. “What _the fuck_!”

Clark Kent, the **absolute bastard** , has the gall to keep snickering. “What, am I missing an eyebrow or something?”

Bruce’s glare intensifies. He jabs a finger at his boyfriend’s chest. “No! You don’t get to deliberately misquote _MythBusters_ for this. TELL ME, RIGHT NOW, WHY YOU ARE _MISSING A LIMB—_ ” Bruce doesn’t realize that he’s been yelling until Clark’s previously mirth-filled eyes grow serious. Abruptly, he shuts up, and goes back to staring at the suspicious _emptiness_ of Clark’s right sleeve.

“Hey,” his boyfriend says gently. “It’s okay, B. _I’m_ okay. Promise.”

Bruce relaxes a little, although, from the worried hovering Clark’s now doing— shouldn’t it be the _other_ way around?— he must be sensing the stress hormones making their way through Bruce’s body. He takes one, shaky deep breath, and then steps closer to Clark. He gently tugs down the right sleeve of the Superman suit and _feels_ his heart stutter. _Clark’s right arm is just **gone**_. But there’s no jaggedness, no blood, no protruding bone. The limb is simply… Not there.

Superman lays a gentle, steadying hand on Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce blinks again, and meets his gaze, brow furrowed. “I don’t— tell me… how?” he asks brokenly.

Clark frowns, sighs, and leads him back to his lab chair. “One minute,” he says softly. Bruce nods jerkily, and Superman disappears. He’s back, a moment later, with something wrapped in his red, red cape. “Promise you won’t freak out?”

Bruce eyes the cape dubiously. _Somehow, I have an **idea** of what might be in there_. “I’ll… try.”

Clark studies his face for a second, before walking forward and gently placing the cape on the tabletop before them. He awkwardly unwraps it with his remaining hand. Bruce feels dizzy as the contents of the cape come into view. His ears ring slightly. With shaky hands, Bruce reaches out, and touches Clark’s arm. His detached right arm.

It jerks slightly, and Bruce jumps back, heart in his throat. “ _What the **hell**_ ,” he hisses.

Clark, looking half-amused, half-concerned steps forward. “Guess you’ll really be my right hand man for a while now, B,” he says calmly.

Bruce whirls, back reluctantly turned to the severed limb; it came from Clark’s body, so it probably won’t attack him. Probably. “Goddamn it, Clark, this is serious!” he snarls. His boyfriend must finally realize how _not funny_ Bruce thinks this is, because he stops smiling, strides forward, and wraps Bruce in a one-armed hug.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into Bruce’s hair as Bruce buries his face in Clark’s chest. The Superman suit is soothingly intact and cool against his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you’d find this _cool_ , B.”

Bruce carefully lifts his face from Clark’s chest and frowns at him. “ _Cool?_ Clark, anything that leads to you getting hurt like- like this is **not** cool. Now, would you _please_ tell me what the hell happened?”

Clark nods, and plants a gentle kiss on his forehead. Then he lets Bruce go and retrieves a spare chair. Bruce sits in his earlier seat and Clark sits beside him. The limb, thankfully, has stopped twitching, though it is no less eerie. He does his best to ignore it anyway. Clark clears his throat. “You know those new robots Toyman came up with?” he asks. Bruce nods. He does. The league fought them last week. “Well,” Clark continues, “he made _more_ of them. Those other ones were just for beta-testing, apparently. Strong bastards too; managed to hold me for a few seconds.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at this. “Strong robots indeed.”

Clark looks sheepish. “Of course, that could have _also_ been the kryptonite some of them had… Anyway, Lois was there— she’s fine, by the way. Even told me to say hi— and the robot had me by the arm and…”

“ _And_ ,” Bruce presses impatiently.

Clark shrugs. It looks rather odd, with his one arm. “And pop goes the weasel! Or, rather, my arm. You could say it gave me the upper hand in the fight—” he winces at the sound of Bruce’s teeth gritting, and sighs. “Sorry. You’ve heard of autotomy, right?”

Bruce nods. “Yes. Certain animals, lizards mostly, have the ability to shed parts of their bodies when threatened by predators. Although, from my understanding, it’s incredibly _rare_ because of how detrimental it can prove to be to the animal— are you trying to tell me Kryptonians are capable of autotomy?”

Clark looks puzzled, and shrugs again. “Dunno. Maybe it’s only me? Because of the sun? But it _appears_ so.”

Bruce glances back at Clark’s right arm. “Hmm… how _sure_ are you about this hypothesis?” If Clark is wrong, he doesn’t exactly look forward to trying to _reattach his arm_. Clark goes quiet for a minute. He’s quiet for long enough that Bruce worries that he’s started spontaneously _bleeding_ from his injury. He isn’t.

Finally, Clark sighs. “Well, if it helps, I’m pretty sure now that this has happened before.”

Bruce blinks. He grits his teeth. _Christ. This man_. “Explain. Please.”

Clark runs his hand through his hair. “I… this’ll sound stupid— I _thought_ it was a dream. Psychosomatic, caused by finding out that I’m an **alien** … but now. I need to have a talk with Ma…”

“ _Clark_.”

“Right! Sorry, Bruce. Anyway, when I was little, like five or six, one of our neighbor’s dogs got loose during a thunderstorm. After, I went out to look for it, and I found it. Poor animal was scared senseless— tried to bite me. Latched onto my sleeve and everything. You can guess what happened next, and why I thought it was a dream.”

“Your arm fell off,” Bruce supplies quietly. He frowns, looks at Clark’s right arm again, and sighs. “So, if that, in fact, _wasn’t_ a dream, then how long, hypothetically, do we need to wait for you to… to regrow the limb?”

Clark frowns. “I… don’t know. I was so _little_ , Bruce. We need to call my Ma. She’ll remember.”

‘I bet she will,’ Bruce doesn’t say. “Okay. Let’s do that, then. For now, I’m going to put your… arm into the lab fridge, in case we _do_ need to try and reattach it.” He stands, grabs the arm in question (ignoring the way his stomach lurches) and goes about his task. When he returns, Clark is already on the phone with Martha Kent.

“Yes, Ma. It happened _again_. Look— No, no, I’m not **mad** you never told me. Yes, I _do_ want to talk about it later. But for now, I just need to know how long it took to regrow… Okay. Okay. Thank you. Bruce was very worried. Yes, I’ll call you later. Goodbye.”

Clark sighs, shakes his head, and looks at Bruce, who has sat down again. He is silent for a long moment. Bruce frowns. _What if he’ll **never** regrow the limb? But— no, that makes no sense_. “Well? Don’t keep me waiting! What’d your mother have to say?”

Clark sighs again. “She told me that it was about four, five days before the arm came back. Makes sense why she told everyone I had the Chicken Pox then… We’ll also have to make a trip to Smallville sometime, and go digging out behind the barn. She said she buried my _other_ arm there.”

Bruce grimaces along with Clark at that. But, knowing Superman’s general indestructability, it has to be done. “Okay. So we’ll keep you out of view for the next couple days— with heavy sunlamp exposure for good measure. Then we can figure out what to do with- Christ, with the _arms_.” Suddenly quite tired, Bruce runs a hand over his face. _My life. How is **this** my life? _

Clark’s warm hand on his shoulder brings Bruce out of his spiral. “I’ll be fine, Bruce.”

He sighs. “I _know that_ , Clark. But I still worry. Come on, let’s get you changed. I’ll warn Alfred and the boys before we go upstairs though, I think.” Smiling tensely, Bruce kisses Clark’s cheek, and stands. “I’ll even give you _a hand_ with getting dressed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Clark is an alien, right? So that means he _isn’t_ just some human-dude who happens to be from a fictional planet, correct? *DC sweats nervously.* 
> 
> This is probably the most crack-y thing I HAVE EVER written, and I am NOT sorry in the slightest. 
> 
> If you want to learn more about this fascinating, **_horrifying_** subject, _Animal Logic_ has a great video [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1L8WnBol7H0). 
> 
> **Autotomy** : “the casting off of a part of the body (e.g. the tail of a lizard) by an animal under threat.” At least that's the def. per _Google_. 
> 
> If you are waiting on a prompt request... I’m sorry my brain is like this.


End file.
